


In a map in our mind

by Keenir



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Gen, not sure if Coulson/Sif or she's just being polite, they're just that good
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-03
Updated: 2013-08-03
Packaged: 2017-12-22 06:14:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 731
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/909870
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Keenir/pseuds/Keenir
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Melinda runs into Sif.  Phil has some explaining to do.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In a map in our mind

**Author's Note:**

  * For [DizzyDrea](https://archiveofourown.org/users/DizzyDrea/gifts).



> Much appreciated to Dizzydrea for introducing me to the character of Melinda May.  
> (read the fic: [here: "No, but I'd like to"](http://archiveofourown.org/works/908848))

Melinda May is currently running through vacant hallways of an urban labrynth, a corner of her mind making a revised draft of what she will say to Phil Coulson when she gets out of here. Or when he shows up as the reinforcement. She's content with either. Not so much content with the shitstorm she just made her way out of, knowing that there's another one up ahead at the other end of this mission, and that's even before the inevitable forms and reports and post-mission interviews required of even SHIELD bus drivers.

Honed instinct tells Melinda to duck - while still running - as she is about to reach the next intersection of corridors.

As if it knows what she's going to do, the arm that swings out, swoops down to chop down on Melinda's spine.

So Melinda spins herself in the air, mentally rolling her eyes at the fact that, yes, mother was right about ballet being a life skill after all.

Landing on the floor, pushing herself to a crouch from which she can leap or stand or roll or do pretty anything else, Melinda looks at her opponent. At the size, at the posture and way the body is held. At the armor and fabrics. _Asgardian._

 _Sif_ , specifically. Unless its Freya - Thor was maddeningly unhelpful in the veracity of the myths that had arisen since his people's last working vacation on Earth.

Still, someone from Asgard. So much for being allies. Melinda doesn't bother reaching for any of the guns or other weapons that come standard for all SHIELD employees, even the paper-pushers on the graveyard shift...especially them, actually. The knives would be useless, she knows. The taser doesn't have the reach. As for the guns, well, she'd really prefer to only relive that experience that twice - the second time, in the post-mission interview; and the first time, when it happened.

Their battle continues.

**~~**

They don't know how long they've been at it, but know its a while because Phil Coulson has just come over and is leaning himself against a wall. "Problem?"

"Give me a minute," Melinda says.

Sif just kind of looks at her before flipping Melinda to the floor, a position which doesn't even last two seconds. "You are working with Phillip?"

 _Oh,_ a realization which sets Melinda to pause and consider Sif again. She doesn't even need to hear that little noise Phil is making in his throat right now, not that that would help any statement he made right now. "I am," Melinda says.

"Thor said your soldiers wore a uniform if they were not garishly-made individuals," Sif says to Phil, and nobody need ask which ones she's referring to.

"That only applies to the Avengers," Phil says. "And to SHIELD techs. Not to most agents of SHIELD." He doesn't mention the obvious - that Sif and Melinda are only slightly bruised and barely cut, because _they are just that good_ \- he learned long ago not to feed egos, and yes, he learned that before meeting Stark, thank you very much.

Oh someone isn't happy. Two someones.

"You _knew_ and didn't think to mention it?" Melinda asks Phil, the emphasis barely noticeable for anyone without their level of training.

That near-imperceptible shrug of his. "Thor mentioned help would be coming your way. But as he's presently still in California, and," this next part aimed more at Sif than Melinda, "given that the Bifrost is still under repair."

Sif makes an amused sound, the sort of laugh you make when you've learned to keep quiet on battlefields, learned it long enough for it to override other things. "Did you believe Loki to be the only one who knew other paths between the worlds?"

"We were hoping it was a safe bet, actually."

"Then you have lost," and dammit if it isn't impossible to read more than one meaning - even three or four if you're not careful - into that casual remark. "Then we are to work together in this action?" Sif asks, and _like that_ , they're all aiming for the goal. The hand raised in anger becoming something to help you along.

Its mostly the pilot in her that has Melinda say, "Welcome aboard," offering Sif a handshake.

Sif accepts it.

"Shall we go?" Phil asks them, at once gentlemanly and completely professional.

Assumptions are corrected as the mind's map of alliances is in part redrawn.


End file.
